


First Meetings

by FlitShadowflame



Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: M/M, everything's better with lasagna?, johnny and ma are good people tho, not particularly graphic sex, underage (harry not quite 16 and johnny 19), very real fear of future rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:35:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22428703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlitShadowflame/pseuds/FlitShadowflame
Summary: Justin is planning a sickening ritual to enslave virginal Harry.Harry says fuck that noise and decides to take care of that pesky virginity before Justin can take it.Not everything changes, but it definitely takes a turn for the better.(kinkmeme fill, edited and improved).
Relationships: Harry Dresden/Johnny Marcone
Comments: 7
Kudos: 179





	1. First Timer

**Author's Note:**

> [Original Prompt and fill](https://scribe-protra.livejournal.com/215580.html?thread=2604572#t2604572)

I wasn't as stupid as I pretended to Justin. I read the runes and knew what this ritual was preparation for, and knew I didn't want anything to do with either spell.

The prep I couldn't avoid, though. Not without raising suspicion. I played dumb apprentice and went to bed early, after he'd finished chanting over me. Then I jumped out of the second-story window and crept and dashed my way to the edge of the property. I prayed faintly to whatever might listen with pity, prayed that Justin didn't find me until I finished, and didn't kill me for doing it.

I was tall for my age, which was enough to get me in the door of the bar. It was early yet, so they waived the cover charge: good thing, too, since I had no money. I sat at the bar, watching the mirror like it might bite me.

Oh Stars, was I nuts? You couldn't run from Justin. He always found you.

I was thinking of bolting again, just running until my legs gave out (or running back to him with my figurative tail between those legs) when someone squeezed my shoulder.

"Little young, aren't you, baby?" a teasing voice purred at me. He licked the curve of my ear and pulled back. I was frozen. "Come on, baby, let me show you around." His hand was slipping over my thigh.

Now that I could get what I came for, I found myself really uninterested. I was about to tell him where he could put his damn hand when it was removed from my person, and the offending man was cringing away from my rescuer.

"Do you not know what 'no' looks like? Or _jailbait_?" he growled.

The creep sobbed, "It's broken, oh God!" His hand looked floppy and wrong.

"Yeah, fuck off before I break somethin' else," the new guy said, kicking the creep's shin. He turned to me. "You really shouldn't hang around places like this, kid. Not everyone gets what the difference between scared and horny looks like. I'm Johnny." He held out a hand.

I looked at him, liked what I saw (way better than the creep, anyway) and tried for a smile, taking the hand and shaking it. "Call me Harry. I just needed to get away and it was the first place I found." I'd needed directions from three people before I discovered an adquately seedy gay bar, but this guy didn't need to know that.

"What're you runnin' from?"

"My uncle," I said cautiously.

He blinked. "What's your uncle done that's got you scared, kid?"

"Not done. Just planning." I glanced around. No one was listening in. I decided to trust Johnny - maybe I'd regret it later, but for now, I just wanted to talk to a nice, handsome guy who wasn't out to get me.

"That guy you ran off. What d'you think he'd have done, if you let him?" I asked.

"...tried to get you alone and get in your pants," he mumbled.

"Yeah." I waited, looking at Johnny expectantly.

His eyes widened. "Your uncle?"

I shrugged one shoulder, because the full truth was harder to explain. Justin wasn't exactly my uncle, but he was planning to do a ritual that did involve fucking a virgin, namely: me.

"Jesus, kid - don't you have somewhere else you can go? Or parents who can..."

I shook my head, and he fell silent. "He's the only person I have in the world. I'm just so tired," I said suddenly. It was getting a little later, and I hadn't slept all the night before. Justin made me sit in a purification bath and meditate the whole time. I'd been fasting, too, so I was starving now. I felt so weak and useless that I wanted to cry.

"Let's get you out of here."

"But I got nowhere to go!" I said.

"Just come with me." He was a little surprised when I stood up - I guess he hadn't expected the kid to be taller than him - but he didn't comment and I followed him outside. He sat down on a motorcycle and I got behind him, cautious of my longer limbs.

"Hold on tight," he said, and took off like the devil was chasing us.

Finally he idled to a stop in front of a dingy apartment complex. "My ma lives here," he said, leading me through the main door. "She's...look, don't mention where I picked you up. Or that guy. Or what I did to that guy."

"Uh, okay?"

Johnny shoved his hands in his pockets. "Good." He led me up the stairs, stopping at the fourth floor. "Okay. Don't tell her," he reminded, and unlocked and opened the door. "Ma! I'm home!"

"Johnny, there you are," she said, bustling in. "Oh, who's your friend, sweetie?"

"This is Harry. Harry, Ma."

She laughed. "My _name_ is Angela, Johnny." She held her hand out. It was spattered with flour, like her apron. I shook her hand uncertainly, and felt the faint tickle of power that meant a sensitive without the strength to need training or be wholly aware of her potential. She had good intuition, maybe, or better-than-average luck.

She must have felt _my_ magic, though, her eyes widening. "You poor dear...you need some lasagna."

I laughed. "I would love some lasagna."

Johnny relaxed.

The food was incredible. Angela kept up an idle conversation with me and Johnn ate quietly. She brought dessert out and said, "Okay, Johnny, why did you bring me a stray?"

"Huh?" That was me, articulate as ever.

"Johnny hasn't brought anyone home since he dropped out of high school. So I doubt he's met you through 'work' and I know he's not man enough to bring boys home to Ma the way he _wants_ to - "

" _Ma_!" Johnny yelped, face red.

"Oh, you think you can pull one over on your own Ma? I know what kind of bars you go to," she rolled her eyes. "So what did you tell him that got him to bring you here?"

"Harry thinks his uncle is gonna rape him," Johnny blurted out. I glared at him.

"Sweetie, is that true?" she asked, frowning. "I could call social services, ro - "

"No - I can't leave Elaine alone with him, and no one who's tried to get me out of there has managed it yet." Justin modified their memories before it got anywhere.

Her mouth tightened. "I can't let you go back to someone who might hurt you."

I picked at the dessert. I was too full for more food, anyway. "Elaine needs my help. I shouldn't have left."

Johnny and Angela looked at each other.

"Stay the night, at least. It's cold outside," Johnny said.

I could sneak in before dawn and maybe avoid Justin's notice. I wanted to _sleep_.

I agreed.

Johnny made up his bed for me and I helped fix the pull-out couch for him, all the while protesting he should be able to use his own bed. He was turning off the light in his room (mine for now) when I caught his wrist.

"I don't want him to take my virginity," I said softly. "Please, Johnny."

He pulled me in his arms and stroked my back as I cried.

"Okay. Hush, or you'll wake up Ma," he said. He directed me to strip and lay down, and fetched some things from his bedstand - a condom and lube. He was half-hard already. I buried my face in a pillow.

It smelled like him: hair oil and spices and a masculine undertone that I hadn't come into yet. Even at almost sixteen and over six feet tall, I still felt like a kid sometimes.

"When that guy touched you earlier I wasn't thinking you looked underage," he murmured as he slicked his fingers. "I was thinking I wanted to be the one to have you. That he didn't deserve someone like you."

I was never good with compliments. "How old are you?" I deflected.

"Nineteen," he said in a kiss to my shoulder. "Does it matter?" he asked.

"N-no." I touched his chest, impressed by the muscle he had already. It look every ounce of fuel I got to sustain my magic and my growth spurts; I wouldn't get anything out of bodybuilding for a year or two yet.

Johnny was graceful and considerate. His self-control was mindblowing; he slid in so slowly I thought I would die of frustration. He didn't just take my virginity. He actually did his level best to make me feel good, to let me enjoy myself and let go. I preferred women, but I might just go gay for Johnny.

Or would have, in a different world. We came, he cleaned us up, and he kissed my cheek before pulling away and leaving the room. I reminded myself I needed to sneak out in a few hours, and if we slept together he might wake up.

And if he asked me to stay, I might forget about Elaine.

I slept wonderfully for five solid hours before my mind kicked me awake agian. I ghosted out of Johnny's life.

I didn't even know his last name.


	2. Proper Introductions, More or Less

I got into the car with Gentleman John Marcone with my emotions in a mess - fear and trepidation, irritation, haste, fury, and lingering discomfort from the gruesome murders with magic as a weapon.

In the car, I calmed down immediately. It was like blindfolding a scared cow - if they can't see what frightens them, they stop panicking. I felt nothing except a swell of contentment, and a little nagging concern over that reaction, but the voice was small.

Marcone talked for a little while, his voice even and soothing. Something he said made me start to worry again, though. We traded less sedate words, and I decided to scare him off with a soulgaze. If I were less rattled I might have thought it through better.

Of course, if I were less rattled, I might have recognized him before we got into this situation. But maybe not. He had grown into a different man.

It takes more than a few simple years to keep someone from recognizing the first person they ever slept with. Our souls knew each other very well, though. I fell into the soulgaze and snapped into his mind, a jungle-desert-Chicago with bullets flying overhead, the cacophany of war. A tiger stalked out of the brush and rubbed against my side before trotting away. It paused, looking at me expectantly. I followed.

The tiger kept me safe, well away from the noisy battles. He led me to a brighter, cleaner Chicago. There was still green here, but it wasn't quite as wild: blooming flowers lined the streets and the buildings, large trees dotted the sidewalks. People chattered happily, completely unaware of the warzone I had stepped out of, though I still heard the faint explosions and the rhythmic tattoo of weapons.

The tiger paused to lick my hand before leading me further, into a hospital. The view outside the windows was not of Chicago at all, but that wasn't that important. Mindscapes are funny things. The tiger prowled to a bed with Marcone hunched over. There was a girl in the bed, who was either ten or twenty depending on how you looked at her. The tiger rubbed against Marcone and it disappeared.

Marcone straightened and turned into Johnny. Johnny kissed me and I was back to myself, yelping in surprise.

"Harry," he said softly, his use of my Name full of all kinds of meaning I could only vaguely notice, not understand.

"Johnny," I said back. The repulsion for his line of work was strangely absent now that I recognized him. I had the incredibly powerful urge to just start kissing him right now and not stop.

My head didn't hurt. I hadn't realized my head was hurting before, but it had actually been hurting since...since I met Johnny, or rather, since I left him in the pre-dawn hours. Just a faint pulse behind my eyes, something I'd tuned out for years.

My hand moved without any conscious thought on my part, cupping the back of his head and pulling him gently to me. We kissed, and it was easy and perfect and we just fit. It was like every sexual experience I'd had since leaving his bedroom was practice for this single defining moment of my life, where I wanted, needed, to get him back and never let him go. I had been young and stupid and had other responsibilities. There was no one stopping me from loving him now, my one-time savior, my first lover, the only man I'd ever cared so deeply for...

A tiny quivering part of me was aware that this was unusual territory, that I had slept with Johnny those years ago because the alternative was a terrifying binding ritual that would enslave me to my guardian, not because I preferred men. On the other hand, I had noticed men, even while dating women, even before I'd known what the ritual was about. I never acted on it, out of fear and uncertainty and, most of all, the terror that no sexual experience with a man would ever measure up to what Johnny and I did, and I would realize that I had screwed that up too badly to recover.

Johnny kissed back, so it must not have been too badly. When he broke free, there were a half dozen emotions competing in his face before he settled on uncertain, but happy.

"I wasn't sure it was you, all this time," he murmured, pulling me into another kiss.

"I can't believe I didn't recognize you," I said, between snatches of lips and a hint of teeth. He made a noise, too dignified to be a moan. I was nearly in his lap, and the roof of the Cadillac was not really designed for men of my height in general. I cursed, and then laughed. He smiled, the boyish, carefree smile he'd had when we ate dinner with his mother. I kissed him again.

"You're not going to run off this time, are you?" he asked.

"...shit, I have an appointment," I groaned. I kissed him again. "I'll be late."

He didn't move his hands from my waist. I didn't remember when he'd put them there. The car was pulling up to my office.

"I'll call you in an hour or two. We should have dinner," he said, still smiling. Hell's bells, he had dimples. That was just unfair!

"Yeah. Dammit. I'll see you later." I kissed him again, hard and desperate, and stumbled out of the car trying to look like I hadn't been making out.


End file.
